


Drinks are on me

by PenguinofProse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship Fridays, bonding opportunities, friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: In which things turn out a little differently after Praimfaya, giving Clarke and Echo a chance to get to know each other. Friendship fic with a Bellarke ending.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Echo & Clarke Griffin
Comments: 28
Kudos: 94





	Drinks are on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firrehearrt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firrehearrt/gifts).



> Here's a fic set in an AU where Skaikru return after five years and chill out with Clarke and Madi for a bit. It's predominantly a friendship fic focused on Clarke and Echo getting to know each other, so please do go look for something else more to your tastes if that's not your thing. But it's also got a Bellarke endgame, so there's that. Huge thanks to Firreheart for the awesome prompt. Happy reading!
> 
> Content note: alcohol and references to abusive childhood.

Echo can feel it happening, the moment they land back on Earth. She can feel her ties to her newfound family loosening, can feel the ghosts of her Azgeda past coming back to haunt her all over again.

It's been a peaceful five years, and already she regrets coming home.

She could kid herself that they really were a family, while they were up there. She hooked up with Bellamy a time or two, and that seemed to count as a decent sign of approval. She hit it off with Raven and Emori in particular, hoped their friendship might last on the ground.

So much for that.

It's not that they have pushed her away – not at all. It's more that she can feel herself closing off again, the trauma she's lived through on Earth coming back to bite her. She doesn't know how to be a relaxed face at the dinner table or a cheerful sparring partner, now that she sees Nia stalking through the trees in her mind's eye.

So that's why she leaves, as soon as it is polite to do so. When supper has been eaten and cleared away, she stands and takes her drink into the forest. A little time alone will do her good, she thinks. And honestly, her friends deserve to have the chance to catch up with Clarke without worrying about why Echo is suddenly so sullen.

She finds a good spot to sit and drink and think. There's a fallen tree to sit on, a view of the lake before her. It doesn't look at all like Azgeda territory, and that helps a lot. She can do this. She can make it work. She just maybe needs to give herself a break and make time to sit alone with her thoughts once in a while.

To say she's surprised when Clarke shows up would be an understatement.

She's never been friends with Clarke – on the contrary. She has an interesting history with the woman, in fact, in which Clarke saved her life and Echo hooked up a handful of times with a man blatantly still in love with Clarke, and that's about all that links them. So she really can't understand why Clarke is now sitting on the log at her side.

Does this woman not know when she is unwelcome?

"You want another drink?" Clarke says by way of introduction, reaching out with a clay jug.

Echo starts a little. She wasn't expecting that. But this berry wine is good stuff compared to Monty's algae moonshine, so she figures that bringing a pitcher at least makes Clarke less unwelcome.

"Sure. Thanks." She says simply, holding out her cup.

They drink in silence for a few moments. Echo has no problem with that – she's something of an expert at silence, she likes to think. But she's surprised to learn Clarke is happy to sit quietly, too. The impression she always got from watching Clarke from a distance before Praimfaya and hearing stories from her friends in space was that Clarke was _not_ a woman made for silence. She always seemed to be doing, talking, acting.

Never just sitting, drinking.

Being.

But she's such an expert at silence these days, it seems, that it is actually Echo who speaks up first. Maybe they've both changed a little in the last five years, she wonders.

"Why are you here? I thought you'd be enjoying the grand reunion." Echo says, with a dose of cynicism she cannot seem to repress.

"I was." Clarke says. "I _am_. But it's a lot, too. It's been quiet round here recently. I feel like I've forgotten how to act around people." She laughs stiffly.

"So you thought you'd come and sit with someone who was clearly trying to be alone." Echo points out shrewdly.

Clarke shrugs. "Sometimes when you're feeling lonely the company of another lonely person is the best thing." She offers mildly. "More wine?"

Echo holds her cup out, accepts the drink. Her head's already fuzzy, but she thinks it will need to be fuzzier still if she's to make it through a heart-to-heart with the woman she still instinctively thinks of as Wanheda.

To be fair, she's never been that great at heart-to-hearts with _anyone_.

"Why are you out here?" Clarke asks in turn.

"The same reason. Or maybe the opposite." Echo says, alcohol and anxiety getting to her brain.

"Thanks for clearing that up." Clarke says, cynical and a little amused.

"I guess I'm finding it hard to adjust." She offers in the end.

"Me too." Clarke agrees.

Silence falls. Clarke refills Echo's drink again, and she doesn't bother objecting. But she's still no closer to truly knowing what the golden girl of the hour, the much-missed heroine, is doing sharing wine and a log with her. For everything she says about _adjusting_ , there's something that still doesn't make sense.

"Why me? Why this log? Why not just go for a walk?" Echo dares to ask.

"Because this is _my_ log." Clarke says firmly. "This has been my place to sit and think, these last five years. I guess I thought that if it appealed to you, too, maybe we have more in common than I realised." She laughs a hollow laugh. "There's that, and there's the fact Raven won't shut up about how you're a great friend of hers now, and we have so much in common, and I should get to know you."

"She said all that?" Echo asks, sharp.

"Yeah. You're in all their stories now. Monty was telling me some funny anecdote about how you got drunk at Unity Day in the second year, and Raven followed it up with how great of a dancer you are, and – and for a moment I was so _jealous_." Clarke admits. "I don't know how to fit in with them now, and it seems like you do. I stormed off feeling hurt and then I realised – it makes more sense to get to know you than throw a tantrum."

Echo snorts. "That's very _Clarke_ of you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I've heard all the stories of you, too. Even though we've barely spoken I feel like I know everything about you. So I'm not surprised that you pulled yourself together and decided to come solve your Echo problem."

Clarke laughs nervously. "You make it sound like I'm here to assassinate you."

"That's what you'd have done five years ago." Echo points out shrewdly.

"Yeah. But since then my friends have given you a pretty great character reference."

Echo nods, holds out her cup in a silent demand for more wine. Clarke complies wordlessly and smoothly, filling her cup to the brim.

Huh. Maybe they could make quite a good team, Echo muses.

"So go on then." She challenges, alcohol and optimism making her brave. "What stories _haven't_ they told me about you?"

Clarke bites her lip for a moment. Echo starts second guessing herself, wonders whether that was too much, too cheeky, too soon. She really does seem worse at human interaction, on Earth.

"Bellamy hasn't told you he once locked me to a table." Clarke says, in the end.

Echo frowns – both at that unexpected revelation, and at the thought of how on Earth Clarke figured out that Bellamy wouldn't have told her that story. She must know him very well indeed. That's not _news_ , of course, but it's noteworthy all the same.

"You're right. He hasn't. Why would he do that?"

"It made sense at the time." Clarke says tiredly, then takes a long swig of her drink.

"I don't believe you."

"It made sense _to him_ at the time." Clarke amends. "Honestly, I could see why he did it. I upset him. I _left_ him when he needed me most. I kind of felt like I deserved to be locked to a table."

Echo nods in what she hopes is an understanding fashion, but she doesn't ask more. She and Clarke are not friends of the kind who are allowed to pester each other over personal matters like this. They are, at best, acquaintances getting to know one another.

"What haven't they told me about you?" Clarke asks in turn.

"That I really hate Earth." Echo mutters, somewhere between proud and surprised that she's being so open. Maybe alcohol has some blessings after all.

"You do?" Clarke asks, frowning. "But you seemed so uncomfortable on the day of the death wave at the idea of going to space."

"Yeah. I was." She doesn't mention the suicide attempt, because she's not quite ready to talk about that, yet. "I didn't realise life could be better, I guess. I have some bad memories of Earth, and the last five years I've made better memories in space. I mean, I know I'm still better suited to Earth. But I can be _good_ at living on Earth and still hate it."

Clarke hums in agreement. "I can see that. People tell me I'm good at leading the human race, but I hate it. Honestly, the last five years have been lovely in many ways."

"You've missed your friends though."

"Yeah. And now I can't remember how to talk to them." Clarke mutters, hands spread wide.

"Start small." Echo recommends. "Start with just Bellamy. You know he cares about you too much to mind if you're anxious or awkward."

Clarke snorts. "And that's where you're wrong. He's acting so strange around me. I hardly recognise him."

Aha. This, Echo suspects, is the real reason Clarke is sharing her log and her wine tonight. Echo takes a deep breath, tries to decide how much to say. She's barely friends with Clarke, yet she owes both her and Bellamy her life. She doesn't want to screw this up.

But damn it, she needs to say something.

"He's only acting strange because he's in love with you and he doesn't know what to do about it." Echo says, carefully light. "He's still processing that you survived and trying to decide whether you're interested. If I were you, I'd skip all the awkward attempts at conversation and just kiss the man."

Clarke splutters on her wine. Echo pats her bracingly on the back. This is what friendship is built of, she hopes.

"You can't – he's not -"

"I can and he is." Echo cuts her off brusquely. "Did they tell you the story about me and Bellamy hooking up a few times?"

"Yes." Clarke answers at once, frowning deeply.

"Did they tell you _all_ that story?" Echo asks.

"They told me it didn't work out." Clarke says, with a careful shrug. "I guess he didn't miss me as much as I missed him."

Echo would laugh at that if it wasn't so damn sad. Sad and untrue. Instead she reaches for the jug and pours the dregs of the wine into Clarke's cup. She has a feeling her new friend could use a drink, right now.

"He missed you." Echo says, tone level, because it's just a fact. "I take it no one told you the part of the story where I called it off because he kept saying your name in bed?"

Clarke gulps silently at thin air, then seems to realise her mistake and takes a loud gulp of wine, instead.

"I told him it seemed like he wasn't ready for another relationship. He didn't argue."

"We weren't ever together." Clarke rushes to point out.

"Clarke. You were together in all the ways that matter, and we all know it." Echo reminds her, firm and brooking no argument.

Clarke nods slowly. She takes another sip of her drink. She turns to Echo with a cautious smile.

"Thanks. Maybe – maybe I'll try talking to him. But I'd like to sit here with you and look out at the water for a bit longer if that's OK."

"It's fine. It's _your_ log." Echo concedes.

She supposes little compromises like that might be a part of building friendship, too.

…...

Bellamy's worried about Clarke.

He forced himself not to chase after her, when she said she wanted to take a walk and headed into the trees. He knows this must be a lot for her, to suddenly have all her friends back when she's been so used to having only Madi for company. And the child appears absolutely overjoyed at acquiring so many new aunts and uncles, and has spent the whole day chatting with Raven. But Clarke seems quieter than he remembers her, less certain of her own speech as she joins a conversation.

He's worried about Echo, too. She's been quiet since they landed. But however much she's his good friend and he cares about her, he has to admit he's worrying about Clarke more.

Or he's at least worrying about her _differently_. He's concerned for her in that sharp, instinctive way that he's been feeling ever since he started to fall in love with her all those years ago.

So that's why he sets off for a walk into the trees himself. He supposes he'll find one or other of them, soon enough. He's a little drunk and a lot worried and maybe not in the best frame of mind for a walk in unfamiliar woods, but he's done stupider things out of love for Clarke before now.

He thinks he's imagining things, when he hears two voices raised in laughter. He thinks that maybe this berry wine has particularly gone to his head, or else there's some kind of substance like jobi nuts blended with the alcohol. But then he draws closer, and sees the two of them sitting on a log together. That's definitely Echo and Clarke, both laughing loudly, leaning up against each other as if they are old friends, a pair of empty cups set at their feet, a jug lying forgotten in the grass nearby.

"It's good to see you two getting along." He offers cautiously, as he approaches.

Echo only roars in laughter. It's a sound she doesn't make often, even after several drinks. "You want to watch out, Bellamy. The girlfriend and the ex comparing notes."

"I'm not his girlfriend." Clarke protests, cheeks flushing.

"You will be soon." Echo states, surprisingly firm and serious after her earlier hilarity.

Bellamy smiles sheepishly, stares carefully at the toes of his boots. He's too drunk to be having this conversation but Clarke looks adorable with her cheeks flushed and her nose scrunched up like that, and honestly she looks _happy_ , too. He was worried earlier that she seemed a bit startled or uncomfortable in his presence, but right now she really does look like she might not mind being his girlfriend after all.

"Maybe I'll ask you in the morning when you've sobered up?" He asks softly.

"You could ask me now?" Clarke counters, pouting slightly.

He laughs, walks a little closer. "No. I – I want us to talk about this sober. I want us to get together sober and – and _kiss_ sober."

"And screw sober." Echo offers – less than helpfully, Bellamy thinks.

That has Clarke laughing, loud and long. Even Bellamy finds himself comfortable enough to chuckle slightly.

"Maybe we could go for a walk, now?" He suggests instead. "Just spend some time catching up?"

Clarke gets to her feet at once. "Sure. I'd like that. Maybe the fresh air will sober me up quicker." She offers, with a teasing tilt to her brows.

He grins. She's been out in the fresh air for some time, as far as he can see, and she's definitely drunker than she was when she left. But he's not complaining, honestly. Although he doesn't think alcohol is a healthy long term coping mechanism, he has to admit he's pretty glad to see that these two women have hit it off over drinks.

"You OK if we leave you to it, Echo? Do you need Raven to come walk you back home?"

Echo snorts. "As if I'd get lost in a _forest_ , Bellamy. I may be drunk, but I'm still _Echo_."

"Sure." Bellamy says smoothly, reaching for Clarke's hand. He figures that's probably acceptable, even if they ought to leave anything more until the morning.

The two of them start walking. Clarke's holding tight to his hand, and he can't figure out whether that's because she's even half as in love with him as he is with her, or whether it's because she's drunk and doesn't want to fall.

No. She's at least _fond_ of him. Otherwise what was all that chat about girlfriends and exes?

"Look after my log." Clarke calls inexplicably over her shoulder, just as Echo is fading out of sight.

"Copy that, Griffin." Echo yells back, still more inexplicable.

Bellamy doesn't bother asking questions. As long as Clarke wants to hold his hand, that's all he needs to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
